


Sit Still, Look Pretty

by MeganOfSaints



Series: Sit Still, Look Pretty [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, captain america: the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Groping, I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Lights Camera Action, Mildly Dubious Consent, Model AU, Natasha is a famous model, Sam is a new model, Sam is definitely bi, She's a goddess, Smut, Talking, Teasing, The tags will get a lot better, There is not enough Sam x natasha in this universe and i plan to fix that immediately, Touching, apple shampoo, but i really am up to no good, i mean smut will happen, i'm talking mild, sassy gay friend steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganOfSaints/pseuds/MeganOfSaints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Day Model AU - Natasha Alianovna Romanova is a world famous model and ballet dancer. Sam Wilson really just needs to pay his college debt. Working his first real gig, Sam soon finds himself waist deep in Natasha's flirtatious smile and charm. Plus, her hair smells like apples. Sam loves apples. As the shoot progresses, Sam and Natasha find themselves drawn to each other. They just can't keep their hands to themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sit Still, Look Pretty

The set was simple, at least by Sam’s standards. Ash hardwood floors were covered in lighting fixtures, white backdrops, and makeup bags. The lights themselves shone on three separate settings; one with a white background with a simple couch, a black background with nothing around it, and a brick background which used the walls of the foundry building the crew was currently set up in. A fancy settee was set against the brick wall, a perfect counterpart to the rustic backdrop. Interns and the crew were milling around, fixing lights and adjusting furniture pieces to the perfect angles. Sam noted that they would be adjusted later and the setup now wouldn’t remain the same for long.

He will admit – but never out loud – that he felt nervous. This was his first real gig. He’d made it. He’d finally gotten to where he wanted to be. Now that he was a professional model, he had to play a part. He had to pretend he wasn’t nervous. He straightened his shoulders as Steve came up next to him, glasses sliding down his nose which was buried in his phone, fingers tapping away at the keys.

Sniffing and pushing his glasses up, Steve breathed and looked around, saying in a soft voice, “We did it, Sam.”

“I’m pretty sure most of it was me,” Sam grinned down at the skinny man next to him. Steve, on the outside, didn’t look like anything special. Standing at 5’7” and only weighing a hundred pounds soaking wet, Steve wasn’t your stereotypical agent. But it wasn’t Steve’s looks that got him where he was now. It was his determination and his surprising wit that allowed him to rise to catering to professional models. Steve was dressed in a casual blue button-down with a skinny tie and dark navy blue slacks.

Steve didn’t respond as his phone dinged again and Sam said, “No, by all means, twitter must be much more important.”

It took him a moment to respond, furthering the truth of Sam’s words before Steve pocketed the phone and said, “Look, we’ve helped each other through the last year. And I’m glad that neither of us gave up. But this is your day, and so I’m going to be tweeting. You have fangirls, Sam.”

“Any marriage proposals?” Sam joked, folding his arms over his chest. In fact, the longer he stood in the midst of the crew and everyone milling around, the more he felt out of place. And the more he wanted to run.

“None yet, but if this goes well, you might have to be fighting them off with a bat.”

“My mother would be happy,” Sam grinned humorlessly.

Steve stared at his friend for a moment before he said, “In all seriousness, Sam, are you okay? If you’re not comfortable with this shoot…”

“No, it’s not that.” Sam sighed and shook his head, “It’s like when you’re standing on the high diving board for the first time at summer camp and everyone around you is telling you to jump and you move closer to the edge, and suddenly you feel dizzy and sick.”

“You’re not going to throw up, are you?” Steve curled his lip in disgust.

Sam pushed him, “No. But then you get the courage to jump and end up in the water below and you realize it was fun and you want to go again? I’m standing at the edge right now, feeling kind of dizzy.”

Steve grinned at him, “But once you jump, you’re gonna want to do it again, right?”

Sam nodded and smiled, his lips curling upwards, “Yea, I think so.”

“Then get over to Clint, he’s your stylist for the shoot. Let me know how it goes because he could be an addition to our team if you like him enough.”

Sam frowned at the tiny man next to him, who had once again pulled out his phone. He was about to ask why they needed another stylist but decided that Steve was too busy promoting his name online. He’d ask later.

Wandering over to a metal door in the foundry labeled ‘Hair and Makeup’, he pushed it open and found it to be quieter than what was happening outside in the main shoot. There were two makeup tables set up, both illuminated with a stocky man with a buzzed fade hairstyle standing near the one closest to the wall, the farthest from the door. He was unpacking a suitcase full of makeup and spray cans, brushes and other assorted knick-knacks that Sam couldn’t name. The man looked up when he came in and smiled at Sam, “You must be Sam. I’m Clint.” He held out his hand and Sam took it, shaking and squeezing slightly. “I’m supposed to make you pretty for today.”

Sam blinked and said, “To be honest…”

“You weren’t expecting a guy.”

Sam held up his hands, “No offense.”

“None taken. I get it all the time.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Relax Sam, it’s okay. Seriously. Sit down and just breathe. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be asking yourself for your number.”

Sam found him a bit odd, but not as odd as the arrow tattoos on his forearms. Once he sat and Clint leaned him back a little, his curiosity got the better of him, “What’s with the arrow tattoos?”

“Oh, I’m an archer. I do it for fun most of the time. I did a few competitions when I was younger.”

“Did you win any?”

Clint shrugged, “I got a few first place ribbon.”

“Just a _few_? Dude, that means you’re dangerous.”

Clint pointed a brush at him, “And don’t you forget it.” He grinned at his own joke, “But in all reality it was something that wasn’t really a reality for me. So, I turned from the most masculine thing to the least.”

“Just because you put chemicals and draw on my face, doesn’t mean you’re less masculine. Trust me, I stand in front of a camera with my shirt off half the time. We’re both in a female dominated profession.”

Clint grinned at him, “Sam, I think I’m going to like you.”

 

Standing in front of the mirror with his first jacket on, open at the front with no shirt on underneath, Sam turned to and fro to make sure everything was in place and not going to put him in a compromising situation. The pants were black jeans slung low on his hips, emphasizing the deep ‘V’ of his hips.

“Smile!” A voice called from behind him and Sam turned just in time for Steve to snap a photo of him. Sam frowned instead and Steve pouted, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Sam.” He whined. “Do it for your fangirls!”

“Steve, I barely have fifty followers on twitter. I don’t have any fangirls.”

“That’s what you think. Now, give me a smile. You’re best, model smile.”

Sam grinned at him, perhaps a bit too much but Steve took it anyway and started clicking away at his phone. “Natasha just arrived. She’s in makeup now. She’ll be on set shortly.” Steve said in clipped sentences. It was obvious his attention was on the tweet he was writing currently.

Natasha Alianovna Romanov was a famous and professional model known around the world for her debut in Cosmopolitan. She was, by societal standards, absolutely gorgeous. She had flaming red hair that always seemed to be in a different style every month. She never looked like she had a hair out of place or a nail chipped. But other than that, Sam knew nothing about her. All he knew was that this was his first real shot at a career and he really didn’t want to screw it up.

Moving over to the camera guy, who beckoned him over to talk about lighting elements and emotions for the shoot. To be honest, Sam wasn’t really listening. Instead, his eyes caught the angel who just walked into the room.

Natasha seemed to absorb all the light in the room and then direct it back outwards from her smile. Sam reminded himself to breath as she walked over barefoot, toting a pair of nude pumps to match a deep purple business dress. The dress looked like it was glued to her body and revealed slices of skin with geometric cutouts on her waist and back. She caught his eye and gave him a dazzling smile and he tried to smile back.

He really didn’t know what shape his mouth made because he felt like he’d lost all higher brain function.

“Hello.” Natasha greeted the camera guy who gave her a chaste and friendly kiss on the cheek. She turned her attention to Sam and Sam felt his heart skip a beat and his palms grow sweaty.

“Hi. Are you Sam?” She said, holding out her hand for him to shake. He shook it and really hoped she couldn’t feel the sweat on his skin.

“Yea,” He said with a thick tongue, “It’s nice to meet you, Natasha.”

“Well,” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, sending a cloud of apple scented shampoo in Sam’s direction and he desperately wanted to bury his face in her hair just from the smell alone. _Get a fucking hold of yourself_ , he thought. She laid her jacket over the back of her chair and fluffed her hair before saying, “Seeing that you already know my name, should we get started?”

Sam nodded his assent and they both stepped onto the black background while lights were being turned in their direction. The camera guy, whose name was Charlie, spoke, “Sam…Natasha, since the cover needs something a little edgy, I wanted to start on a black background. Sam, you’re entire body needs to be facing me. Feet shoulder width apart – or whatever is comfortable. Natasha, I want your arm on his shoulder – reach a little if you have to – good.”

He kept tweaking their positions and adding colorful lights to spray across their feet or faces, blues and magentas with yellow and purple. Sam felt blinded but Charlie kept telling them how perfect they looked. Charlie directed a few shots with Natasha leaning her head against his shoulder completely, eyes glaring directly at the camera as he was directed to turn to look at her, his eyes completely averted from the camera.

Once again he got a heavenly whiff of her hair and couldn’t help but whisper when Charlie was fixing his camera settings, “Your hair smells really good.”

Natasha cracked a smile, risking Charlie chiding them from breaking character, and without moving her head and erasing the smile from her face, “Thank you. Though, I spent three hours in a chair for it to smell this good.”

“Oh, well, I guess I should thank your hair and makeup team.”

“Give me some credit, it is my hair.”

“All to the hair and makeup team.” Sam teased and was redirected by Charlie, who snapped his fingers to get his attention.

Sam apologized and after the next shot, Natasha grunted, “Charlie, my neck is killing me.”

“Alright, take a minute to readjust.” Charlie called, his nose stuck in his camera, “But you guys look amazing.”

Natasha lifted her head from his shoulder and Sam kinda missed the warmth she provided. Smiling to each other, Sam asked cheekily, “So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Natasha genuinely laughed and put her hands on her hips and if that didn’t make everything about her stand out even more. Sam couldn’t help but admire her curves and _very_ well-endowed assets. “Fella’ done me wrong.”

Sam quirked a smile at her playful tone and said, “But in all seriousness, how’d you get into modeling.”

“It’s something my mom pushed me into when I was little. And just like the rebellious teenager I was, I didn’t want to do it anymore. So, I focused on my dance. But eventually,I came back to it.”

“You dance? What kind?”

“Ballet.” She said, “I was really good at it too. I had auditions to many famous studios in Russia and in New York. I didn’t get into the top studios my mom wanted me in, but I got into one that was attached to a school for photography and fine arts. And I found myself back in the world of modeling.”

“That must be one helluva guy to do you wrong.”

She smirked, “We can talk later.” She said, motioning to Charlie that she was fine. Charlie turned him sideways so that he was in profile and Natasha was prompted to wrap her arms around his waist, pressing herself bodily into him. She was also instructed to pull the left side of his jacket away from his body, exposing his abdomen to the camera. Natasha’s hand lay possessively against his warm skin and Sam found his breathing to be coming faster than should be normal. That doubled with the fact that her pert breasts were pressed into his back.

He was struggling to be professional.

“Sam, don’t look at the camera,” Charlie commanded and Sam snorted as he moved his head to look straight ahead. He could feel Natasha giggling into his back and then she was prompted to stare _possessively_ at the camera like Sam was her biggest desire.

 _Damnit Charlie, are you trying to kill me?_ Sam thought as Natasha’s hand slipped down perhaps a little more than was necessary and Sam swallowed audibly. Sam was sure Charlie would correct her but he just ate it up and told her to stay right there for a moment. She called, “My pleasure.”

Sam couldn’t help it. He shuddered. Goosebumps ran the length of his skin and he desperately wished to turn around just to see what was going on behind her eyes. Instead, he was forced to stay in place as Charlie directed her to stand back to back with him, their hands intertwining with each others at Charlie’s request.  

It was another hour before Charlie called for another break. Sam’s feet were killing him. He collapsed into the chair and laid his head back, closing his eyes for a moment before hearing Natasha plop down in the chair next to him. Opening his eyes, he was met with the image of her with her hair tied back and her face in her phone.

Tapping her lightly on the foot, she looked at him with a question in her eyes. He felt a little foolish but he asked, “If you don’t mind, I’d love to know more about how you got to be a model.”

She grinned at him and finished her message, saying something about a doctor’s appointment confirmation. Once she put her phone away, she turned to him and said, “Well, it’s a very long story. Are you sure you want to hear the whole thing?”

“You can give me an abridged version if you don’t want to reveal all of it.”

“Well, since you’re willing to listen.” She gave him a small smile and continued, “I told you I started out modeling when I was a kid. I got to wear all these cool clothes and people were paying attention to me. At first, it was just my mom doing my makeup and hair. But as more and more people were calling my mom to get me on commercials and shoots, I met another woman who was a professional. At least, that’s what my mother said. So, my entire life was based around school and shooting. I’d come home from school, have two hours for homework and then off to a shoot until ten at night.”

“That must have been awful.”

Natasha shrugged, “I thought it was great fun. That was…until I hit puberty. I started fighting with my mom more and more. We’d fight in car ride home from the shoot and I’d remember getting out of the car and hating her.” She seemed a bit distant, plucking at her hem before shaking her head slightly,

“I finally managed to get her to listen to me. So, I stopped modeling altogether. Mind you, up until then everything in my life was micromanaged for me. My body and my time were not my own. So, I found myself letting go. I gained – probably – around a hundred pounds.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised and he said, “Was that a bad thing?”

“At the time, yeah.” She looked a bit sad, “It’s really damaging to tell a child that their worth is how well they can fit into the dress the company provided. It really got to me and I started to hate how I looked. I started to starve myself.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. But it got to the point where my dad started to notice something was really wrong. My mom really didn’t care. She thought I looked great.” Natasha snorted bitterly. “But it was my Dad – Ivan was his name – who showed me that what I’d become wasn’t healthy.”

“What you’d become?”

“I didn’t look human.” She said, staring him straight in the eye and making him break the contact first, “The first sense of clarity I got and I saw a damn skeleton looking back at me in the mirror. It scared the shit out of me. For a year and a half, I was going to therapy and nothing was really working. I was gaining some weight, but I couldn’t manage to have it stick. I felt like I was being pulled in two opposite directions.”

“That must have been rough.”

“Yea, that’s when my dad gave me a pamphlet for the ballet. He told me that if I started at the beginning of junior high, he would pay for all of it. The lessons, the private tutors, everything. At first, I thought it was just a ploy from my mother to get me back into the body she thought looked good on me.”

“What did you do?”

“I went to the first few lessons and my teachers hated me because I wasn’t strong enough. My legs could barely hold me up. My peers looked at me oddly and I didn’t really make any friends right away. Parents would whisper when my dad was sitting in the seats, watching me practice, about how he wasn’t feeding me.” Natasha said bitterly, “And it hurt. Because it wasn’t true.”

It was silent for a moment before she got the courage to speak again, “I was threatened by my teachers that I wouldn’t be able to continue in the program if I couldn’t perform even the basic of exercises. That night, my dad gave me a choice. Go back to therapy or continue with dancing.”

“What choice did you make?”

“I went dancing.” She smiled, happiness clear on her face, “I ate five times a day, smaller meals at first until I built back the muscle I needed to thrive. Ballet pushed me to be healthy and to be who I was, not who my mother wanted me to be. It was hard at first, with all the mirrors around me, mocking me and telling me that I wasn’t healthy to be with the other girls. But as I continued to do it until high school, I got better and better. I built back the muscle and the fat and I eventually turned into a lean, fighting machine.”

Sam cracked a smile and he said, “That’s the best story I think I’ve ever heard.”

Natasha gave him a smile, looking up at him through her lashes as he asked, “So, how did you get back to modeling?”

“I continued to dance throughout college and I went to a prestigious dance academy which was attached to a fine arts institution. Most of us had classes with one of the other majors at one time or another. I met a guy named James, a photography major, my freshman year and we became fast friends. I even had a small crush on him, but it was evident from the get-go that he didn’t swing for my team. Rumor had it that he was low-key banging one of the fine arts majors. But that’s beside the point.”

Sam watched her as she talked. The way she would smile at fond memories, he wondered if there were little nuisances that she wasn’t talking about, just little things that made the memory better. He felt compassion and almost anger when he told her about people who had hurt her. He wanted to be there with her to protect her. She was so kind, but definitely not someone to be messed with, according to a story about a party and a baseball bat. Sam winced when she described what she had done to a particularly _handsy_ individual.

“But for one of James’s senior art projects, he was told by a professor that he needed portrait pieces that showed movement. He was at a loss for what to do until I offered to dance for him. It was the best four hours of my life. It felt nice to dance for a purpose other than finals and recitals for scouts.”

“Did he pass his senior project?” Sam asked as Charlie called for the break to be over. Natasha looked behind her and pulled her hair out of its pony tail, shaking out the red curls and sending another wave of apples toward Sam.

“Of course. I even went to the art gallery that was hosting all his art and a professional photographer had been visiting from France and had stopped into the art gallery. He asked me if I was the model in the pictures and if I was interested in modeling more. And the rest is history.”

Sam whistled, “Damn. That’s one helluva story. I wish mine was little more interesting now.”

“Well, you do have the next hour and a half before lunch to think of some far-fetched story to dazzle me.”

“Is that a lunch invitation, Miss Romanova?”

She sent him a playful wink before launching out of her chair and saying, “It most certainly is.”

 

The next hour and a half flew by with a scene change to the white background and some very bright lights. Sam wondered how washed out he must look in the photos. This much light wasn’t too great to hide any blemishes on his face. Although he supposed, that’s what Photoshop was for. The simple couch for the white background wasn’t anything special and with Natasha draped across it, Sam had a rough time not staring at everything she embodied. Strength and determination. She was an incredible woman and Sam desperately hoped she wasn’t seeing anyone.

Charlie wanted individual shots on the couch and spent the last half an hour with Sam in various positions that showed off his muscles and physique. Off to the side, he could see Steve holding up his phone and snapping a few pictures. But he wasn’t really worried about what Steve was doing. His eyes found Natasha’s occasionally.

She was sitting in her chair, her phone held in her hands. But she didn’t seem too invested in whatever was on the screen since she would glance up at him a few times.

“Hey, Charlie,” Natasha called and Charlie turned after he finished his trio of shots. He turned to Natasha with a raised eyebrow,

“Yes?”

“In this light, Sam would look so much better with his jacket off. The angle of the lights cast him in perfect shadow against the white backdrop.”

Sam wasn’t sure what her game was but when Charlie snapped his fingers, saying _you heard the lady_ , he really didn’t want to resist her game. Natasha seemed to preen when being referred to as a lady. With her eyes watching him, he pulled off his jacket slowly, making sure to flex slightly. Natasha cat-called him which made the crew laugh and a few even joined her. Sam threw the jacket to the side, all the while staring at Natasha who looked at him like a lioness stalking her prey.

Sam relaxed back on the couch, his eyes catching hers and Charlie praising Natasha and telling Sam to look dazed, opening his lips and staring past the camera.

When Charlie called lunch, Sam stood up and groaned. His position for the last ten minutes bent his back into an uncomfortable curve. Steve was at his side in a moment, glasses pushed up on his nose, “Natasha seemed to take a liking to you.”

“Yea,” Sam said, snatching a water bottle from the cooler and collapsing in his chair, slouching until he was in a comfortable position. “She’s nice.”

Steve coughed and Sam looked up at him with a question in his eyes, “What?”

“Nice? Darling, I’m gay. Not blind. I can see how she’s looking at you, and you at her.”

“What are you? My mother?”

Steve said, “Just be careful Sam. These flirtatious actions are all fun and games, but nothing _else_. Okay?”

“Yup,” Sam said, taking more interest in his phone and the dozens of emails he managed to get in the past three hours. Steve grunted and moved away, saying,

“They’ve got a buffet table for the crew. You’re invited to join it if you’re hungry.”

“Yea, give me a minute.”

“Take your time.”

Steve left Sam to construct a very wordy email to his mother, explaining his schedule for the next month and trying to get her to understand that he wouldn’t be able to get home for a visit until later in the year. It wasn’t like he was avoiding home. Not at all. He was just so busy that he barely got a moment to himself. And not to mention the massive amounts of college debt that he was still trying to work off. Sometimes he took jobs that weren’t so great. But they paid the bills.

A sandwich fell into his lap and startled him, making him look up to see Natasha sitting down across from him, smiling and taking a sip of her own drink. “Hi.” She prompted and for a moment, Sam forgot the English language. How could this woman be so beautiful and be responsive to his flirtations?

“Hey,” Sam said, finishing his email and hitting send before putting his phone away and picking up the sandwich. _Ham and Swiss_. Sam lifted the sandwich, “Thanks.”

She shrugged, “It was the only good looking one out of the whole spread.”

Unwrapping the sandwich and taking a tentative bite, Sam was surprised to find it wasn’t awful. She smiled at his pleased face and she said, settling back in her chair, “So, you got to hear my story. I wanna hear yours.”

“My story?” Sam asked, arching an eyebrow, “I told you. My story is boring.”

“How am I going to know if it’s boring if you don’t tell me?”

“There isn’t anything interesting. I went to school and got a degree in communications and then became a model. There, boring.”

She gave him a flat look and said, “Then what’s this picture.” She tilted her phone screen toward him and he blanched. There, on her phone, rested a picture of him in his army fatigues and a serious expression. It was an old picture of him, back when he was in high school. He looked up at her and asked her,

“Where did you get that?”

“It’s common, public knowledge. Plus, I like to know my co-workers.”

He didn’t know whether he should be upset or impressed that she went to such lengths to dig into his past. He sighed and said, “I kinda wish you woulda’ just asked me. I find those actions kinda invasive.”

The smile dropped from her face and she retracted the hand that held her phone, “I’m sorry Sam. You’re right. I should have asked. I just…to be honest, I was just really curious. You seem really interesting and I got curious.”

Sam sighed and said, “I forgive you. But yea, I was in the military for two tours.”

“Why did you leave?”

Sam shrugged, “I lost my co-pilot in a standard training mission. It was like I was up there to watch him fall.”

Natasha’s face fell and she reached for him, “I’m sorry Sam.”

He gave her a smile, “It’s okay. After I left the military, I wanted something as far away from the military as I could think. It was Steve who suggested modeling to me.” Sam looked across the room and found Steve talking to one of the lighting guys. “We’ve been taking care of each other for the past for years.”

Natasha blinked, “Are you two…?”

“Together?” Sam asked with a laugh on his lips, “What makes everyone think that?”

She blushed and push her hair back behind her ear, “I don’t know.” She shook her head, “I think it’s the way it’s you look at him. Like you’d drown without him.”

“Have you seen the man, he’s no floatation device.” Sam chuckled and Natasha snorted a laugh, “Once Steve was done with art school in New York, we reconnected after I came home and we helped each other a lot. The running joke between us is that we are each other’s free therapy.”

Natasha smiled, “It’s good that you have someone like that.”

“It is nice.” Sam smiled in Steve’s direction once more before turning his head back to Natasha, grinning, “So, what about you? Do you have someone in your life?”

She smirked, “My Sam, are you trying to ask me out?”

Sam glimpsed at Steve and said, “No, just trying to get to know you a little better.” She grinned at him, and he knew she could see right through him.

Charlie called, “Everyone back on lighting and set in a minute.” Natasha hopped off her chair and winked at Sam, making his mouth go dry.

 

With only an hour left on the set, Charlie placed them on the last background, Sam’s back to the brick wall as Natasha stood in front of him, her heels placing her lips right under his chin. It would be so easy to just lean down and kiss her. Her lips were supple and pink and he was imagining what it would look like if they were bitten red. Sam took a deep breath to center himself.

Charlie stood off to the side of them, “Okay, last hour guys. Let’s make it the best one. Sam, I need your right leg slightly bent and propped up on the wall, just enough for Natasha’s leg to rest on it – there you go. Natasha, you bend your left leg – there you go and leave your legs together. Sam, I want your hands on Natasha’s waist like you’re trying to pull her closer…like you can’t get enough of her.”

 _No trouble there._ Sam thought and for a moment, he thought he caught Natasha smiling at him. “Natasha, I need your head turned toward me, your eyes cast downward. You can place your hands where they feel comfortable.”

Natasha’s hands, in order to balance and stay in position, ended up on Sam’s left shoulder and right forearm, her fingers causing electricity to course through his veins. “Sam.” Charlie shocked him out of his stupor and said, “Sam, I need you leaning into her just like she’s leaning away. I want to see you chasing her. Your body is very passive, it’s not doing much for the chase. So, I want all that movement brought into your eyes…got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said, his voice a bit rough at the close proximity.

Sam leaned a little off the wall, bringing his face to pretend like he was going to kiss her. He inhaled and the scent of apples washed over him once more, making his head spin from the smell of her.

“Tighten your hands, Sam, I want to see how hard you are gripping her.” Charlie said, “Pretend you’re going to yank her into a kiss at any moment.”

 _Don’t have to try too hard._ Sam thought as his fingers dug into her waist a little more, feeling her gasp a little. He frowned, “Too hard?” He whispered.

He noticed a blush on her cheek as she silently shook her head, biting her lip as Charlie continued to coax them, pushing and pulling them into different positions. Sam’s leg was starting to slip so in an act just before Charlie was about to take the next photo, he really tightened his grip and pulled her into him. She gasped in surprise and put her hands on his chest, her eyes bright and staring up at him in confusion.

“I was slipping.” Sam called, “Sorry.”

Charlie grumbled for a moment, “My shot is…” He paused for a moment, looking at his camera, a frown covering his eyebrows, “Perfect? Damn, I thought it was gonna be blurry. Sam, warn me next time you need to adjust.”

“Sorry,” Sam said, but by the look on Natasha’s face and the blush covering her cheeks, Sam was starting to realize something. He wasn’t sure just yet but there was time for that later.

In their new position, Natasha was very close to him, perhaps little closer than they should be. Sam’s leg was no longer bent and his grip on her waist made her body bend into him and then back away as her head curved away from his.

“Beautiful,” Charlie said, snapping photos left and right.

“Beautiful indeed,” Natasha whispered, bringing her head back to center without Charlie’s instruction. Sam thought she was going to get a firm telling-off but apparently her pay grade allowed her to do whatever she wanted. Charlie just kept snapping pictures. Her nails scratched over his chest, leaving little raised areas of skin and Sam’s breathing hitched. _What was she doing? Was this allowed?_ Sam scanned the room for Steve quickly but he was nowhere in sight.

Charlie’s camera just kept snapping away and Sam wasn’t sure how much of this he could use, but he went with it, adjusting his hands and letting them slip down her body to her ass, palming her through the fabric. She gasped and so did other people on set and Sam wondered if he really did cross a line. But Charlie didn’t care. Just kept taking pictures.

Sam soon learned that if you were on set with a gorgeous and famous model, no one really cared what she did or what he did. As long as they stayed in character.

So, what did Sam do?

He took it up a notch.

 _Ignore everything and everyone. Just focus on her._ Brushing her hair from her shoulder, his head dropped to her skin and laid gentle kisses along her collarbones and neck, making her tilt her head for the camera. One hand stayed on her ass and the other went back to her waist, pulling her against him. Sam could hear her breathing, soft and panting slightly. Her fingers pushed on his ribs, pushing her lower body into his own. Sam held back a groan as his cock started to fill. God, he needed to stop but he really didn’t want to.

Tipping her backward a little, he whispered, “Tilt your head back.”

She didn’t question him, as she dropped her head back and he kissed a fiery trail of wet, hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. He didn’t see it, but he swore he heard a small moan slip through her lips.

He spun her quickly, her back coming flush to his chest and her ass pressing against his cock. She smirked back at him and pressed a bit harder, making him keen high in his throat. A blush spread across his own features. His left hand pressed into her belly, holding her to him as his right hand slipped down her leg until he reached the hem of her dress and pretended to pull it up.

“Sam!” She gasped, her hand flying to his own hand as Charlie said, “Okay, everyone! That’s a wrap! This has been a great day! Lighting, I want the blue lights left up for tomorrow. I’ll need them tomorrow.”

Sam felt a little bad for getting lost in the scene and he quickly let Natasha go, feeling like he crossed a line. She sent him a tight smile and disappeared to the dressing room, which she practically sprinted towards. Sam huffed. _Damnit, you pushed too hard._ Sam wiped a hand down his face and shoved his hands in his pocket to try to hide his semi. Gritting his teeth and thinking about dead puppies as he walked over to his own dressing room, he let Clint take all the makeup and sweat from his face as he made small talk.

Coming out of the dressing room dressed in his normal street clothes, Sam felt like a lead pipe had been stabbed through his chest. He was an idiot. He shouldn’t have done that. He should have just taken his commands and not crossed the lines. He felt like he should apologize to Natasha for behaving like he did. He didn’t ask her consent and he felt a little sick with himself.

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he looked up to see Natasha walking toward him, also in normal street clothes. She looked good in a t-shirt and jeans with black converse on her feet. Sam took a step toward her and he opened his mouth to apologize, “Natasha, I’m s –”

She reached up on her tip toes and kissed his cheek, her hand finding his own and Sam felt a piece of paper slip into his hands.

“Thanks, Sam. See ya’ around.” She tossed him a smirk over her shoulder and left him blinking in confusion with a piece of paper in his hand. Unfolding the note before Steve found him, and feeling like a child sneaking behind his parent’s back, Sam’s eyes scanned the hand writing.

_201 East 86 th Street, Manhattan. 7 pm. Don’t be late._

Sam swallowed audibly. He was so far over his head. 

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to add a second part to this...for the actual gratuitous smut and sex I plan to write. Let me know what you guys think. Comments are always appreciated. :)


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